


I Pledge My Soul

by Zelda_the_fierce



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Bisexual Character, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, Church of Night, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Heterosexual Character, Heterosexuality, Internal Conflict, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Love, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-01-07 08:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18406790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelda_the_fierce/pseuds/Zelda_the_fierce
Summary: Zelda always regarded love with caution, avoided it all costs.How ironic then, that Satan would damn her with love for the two people who were capable of hurting her the most.





	1. A proposition

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so this is my first fan fiction ever and my first story in a loooong while, so we'll see how it goes. I felt like there wasn't a whole lot of fan fiction out there for Madam Spellman and Spellwood, other than one shots and of course the amazing story that is 'Black Magic Women'. (check out the author if you don't know them already- MoonFullOfTears)
> 
> I have decided to keep some scenes and ideas from the series in this story as I wanted to keep it as close as possible to the original story contextually, though there are going to be major differences.
> 
> I have no idea how long this will be, but we will probably be in for the long haul.👌🏻
> 
> Anyway, you came here to read a story not listen to me ramble on, so here goes...

Sabrina had finally agreed to studying at the Academy of Unseen Arts, albeit after a rather humiliating trial in front of the entire coven, and Zelda felt that her life, and her path towards a renewed status within the Church of Night, was finally back on track. Knowing her family however, she was aware that it was foolish to believe a rebellious teenage half-witch, housebound warlock, and excommunicated sister would stay out of trouble for long.

Better to enjoy the peace while it lasts, she thought as she prepared her medical bag for Lady Blackwood's pregnancy check-up.

It had been years since she had delivered a baby, 16 to be exact, so she was surprised when Father Blackwood asked her to be a midwife for Constance. In truth, her pride was knocked slightly, some senseless part of her had half-expected him to ask her to dine with him. Of course, it was a preposterous expectation; why would an esteemed high priest- who was married no less- wish to spend an evening with her, a woman barely holding together a family whose name had been dragged through the mud constantly ever since her younger brother had laughed in the face of the Dark Lord and married a mortal? No, she knew her place in witch society and it was most certainly not at the left hand of Father Blackwood.

Making her way downstairs she overheard Hilda say her name, followed by a snigger from her dear nephew.

'Thought my ears were burning,' she said, marching into the kitchen. 'What are you two plotting?'

She rolled her eyes inwardly as the other two stuttered, trying to find a response that would divert her attention from their clearly mischievous plans.

'Just wondering where you're going so smart?' Ambrose spluttered out.

She took the bait, it gave her a perfect opportunity to mock her sister and frankly, she wasn't particularly interested in what they were doing; she'd tackle that problem later.

'I've been invited to the High Priest's house to sup.'

'With your medical bag?'

'Shut up, Hilda,' she said, evoking an incredulous laugh from the blonde woman.

'You are persona non grata. Dinner with the High Priest is a great honour, one you'll never again enjoy. You two will have to fend for yourselves tonight, I'm afraid.' She popped a strawberry in her mouth, turned on her heel, and left.

~~~

Faustus loomed over Zelda as she placed a stethoscope over Constance's stomach. Zelda tried to focus on the fluttering heartbeat coming through the instrument rather than the close proximity of the High Priest, his breath caressing the back of her neck, causing every hair on her body to stand on end, acutely aware of what would happen if she was to step back.

She closed her eyes for a moment, recomposing herself, reminding herself that she was there to check the health of his wife and his unborn child, nothing else.

'Well? Is it a boy? Is it healthy? Are there any problems? How long left?'

Zelda could understand Faustus' concern; Constance had already miscarried previously and he couldn't afford for this pregnancy to fail, lest he be left without a male heir.

'Please, relax Your Excellency, it is too early to tell the sex of the child, it is perfectly healthy, no problems whatsoever and as for how long there is left? The same number of months as when you asked me an hour ago. Now please, I have everything under control and this agitated state of yours will do nothing to benefit the situation.'

In any other instance Zelda would not have dared to speak in such a way to the High Priest, but Faustus knew that this was her area of expertise; he had no choice but to listen to the woman if he wanted this pregnancy to run smoothly.

Zelda removed the stethoscope and Lady Blackwood sat up, taking Zelda's hand as she assisted her off the table.

'Go and rest for a while Lady Blackwood, there is a private matter I wish to discuss with Sister Zelda,' Faustus said, turning to his wife.

Bowing her head in acknowledgment, Constance left the room without a word, leaving Zelda alone in the room with Faustus.

Zelda released a breath she didn't realise she had been holding as Faustus took a step back from her, stroking the skull on the top of his cane thoughtfully as he watched her begin to pack away her instruments.

'I cannot fully express my eternal gratitude for your cooperation Sister Zelda, it truly is much appreciated.'

'Think nothing of it Your Excellency, it is merely a token of my own thanks for how quickly you forgave my niece for her outrageous behaviour.'

'The Dark Lord bade me forgive Sabrina for her misdemeanours, he knows she is young and he is not without mercy. However, I do not wish to speak of your niece, I must confess that I have another favour to ask you, not entirely separate from your role as a midwife to Lady Blackwood.'

'Oh?' Zelda held her breath again in anticipation. What else could she possibly offer to the couple that would help them through the pregnancy?

Faustus moved slowly towards Zelda, until they were inches apart. Zelda was trapped between the table and her High Priest. She could almost feel his body heat radiating, curling around them like an invisible rope, tying her to her place with no escape.

'It is with great sadness that I admit that Lady Blackwood and I have grown apart in the past few months of her bearing child. Indeed, the passion we once held for each other is dwindling more and more every day, for two weeks now she has denied herself to me.'

Zelda gasped at the revelation, shocked that her High Priest has chosen to disclose such sensitive information. She closely guarded herself, anticipating something further- she didn't quite know what, but her instincts told her to think carefully about how she handled this conversation.

'Yes Sister Zelda, it is so shocking even I can barely comprehend the audacity of my own wife to deny me of my rights as her husband. And yet she refuses to let me seek satisfaction elsewhere, she frowns upon polygamy, and though I have tried to honour her wishes for the sake of our unborn child, I fear I can wait no longer.

'This is why I have come to you, Sister Zelda. I am sheepish to admit that I have always found my eyes drawn to you in every room, even if my wife is present. You possess a beauty that I feel no other can match, a beauty that is wasted in that mortuary of yours, trying to control a family that insists on pulling apart the ropes that hold your household together. Dear Zelda, is it so daring of me to suggest we embark on a more informal relationship, that we might both find relief from our separate troubles in each other?'

Zelda's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened at Father Blackwood's words, astounded at the audacity of his suggestion and yet strangely enthralled. She looked in his black eyes and searched for some kind of emotion that would reveal this as a trick, a test of her devotion; to her family, and to the coven. She could find none, and yet she knew that should she agree, this would not be a simple affair.

'I...I...Forgive me Father, I do not know what to say, this is unexpec...'

'Hush now Sister Zelda,' Faustus murmured, placing one slender finger over her mouth, before gently tracing the shape of her lips with his sharp nail. 'I do not expect you to respond immediately, take some time to mull over your decision, it would be wrong of me to demand your agreement without due consideration.'

Zelda stared at him, taken aback as his hand slowly trailed along her cheekbone to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. Then, he stepped back and the spell was broken.

'Well, I don't want to keep you from your family any longer Sister Zelda. I'm sure the Spellman household is in absolute chaos without your firm hand on everyone's shoulders.'

Zelda cleared her throat, which suddenly seemed very dry, and licked her lips, willing herself to remember how to speak.

'Ahem, yes, you are quite right of course Father. I must be on my way, I, ahem, thank you for your hospitality.'

'Not at all Sister Zelda, it is I who should be thanking you. I trust you know your way out?'

'Yes, of course Father, I will see you at Unholy Mass, I'll make sure Sabrina is there on time, of course.'

Zelda continued in this way as she checked herself, smoothing down her skirt and fussing over her medical bag, looking anywhere but in Faustus' direction, before backing out of the room with a slightly bowed head.

Once safely out of the house, she released a shaky breath, trying to process what had just happened as she stumbled through the forest, barely looking where she was going and frequently walking into branches. She was glad that she was alone; Satan knows she would never be able to forget if somebody saw her flustered and staggering around like a drunken fool in the middle of the night.

She tried to comprehend what she had heard leave the High Priest's lips only minutes ago; it had not been a daydream, of that she was sure, she didn't have time for such nonsensical activities as that. It had definitely happened, her cheek still burned from where he had touched her. It was wrong, unfair on Constance, unfair on their unborn child, for Satan's sake it was unfair on Zelda! And yet, strangely, she felt slightly compelled, drawn to the idea of sharing such a dark and fulfilling secret with a man whom she had always admired for his impeccable and expensive taste in clothing, his eyes, blacker than the deepest pits of hell, never a hair out of place, never a spot on his shirt.

Upon reaching the Spellman's Mortuary, she sensed another problem was soon to arise. She sighed, cursing herself for not confronting Hilda and Ambrose earlier for whatever reckless plan they had been making. She swelled her chest, preparing herself for the scolding that would be inevitable for her sister.

However, as she opened the front door, all the time in the world could not have prepared her for what she was about to see.


	2. An interesting turn of events

Zelda stepped over the threshold of the front door and swept her gaze around the lobby, alert for signs of trouble. All seemed in order at first, the lobby appeared empty and she closed the front door behind her. Leaning against the door she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, still trying to come to terms with Father Blackwood's outrageous proposition.

'I'm so sorry to disturb you, I was wondering if you could assist me?'

Zelda's eyes snapped open and she pushed herself away from the door, startled by the sudden, unfamiliar voice. She looked towards the staircase, where a strange woman in a long black leather coat and large sunglasses was slowly descending. Zelda's eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of this woman sashaying towards her, hips swaying with effortless seduction. Even Zelda felt herself becoming hypnotised despite her shock at finding a stranger wandering around her house.

The woman stopped in front of Zelda and removed her sunglasses, revealing piercing blue eyes that sparkled like the sun on the ocean's surface, rooting Zelda to the floor for the second time that day.

'I'm so sorry, I was just looking for the powder room and got a little lost, your house is truly magnific...'

'And you are...?' Zelda interrupted the woman as she finally regained her senses and composed herself.

'Oh, of course. How rude of me. I'm Mary Wardwell, Sabrina's teacher at Baxter High, but I'm here to make some funeral arrangements.' Lilith dabbed at the corner of her eye at the last part, trying to seem as convincing as possible. She offered her hand to Zelda to shake. Zelda ignored the hand until it fell limply to Lilith's side and an awkward silence followed as each woman observed the other, silently trying to assert dominance. Zelda broke her gaze first, cursing herself inwardly. Never in all her life had her authority been challenged and successfully undermined . Something about Mary made her heart beat a little faster, though she couldn't place her finger on what exactly.

Trying to recover from this defeat, Zelda pushed her shoulders back in an effort to appear even taller than the slightly shorter Mary.

'And where is the woman who presumably let you into my house?'

'The basement, I believe.'

So, Hilda was up to something then, thought Zelda with trepidation. Leaving a client (however true that claim was) alone before disappearing to the basement? That could only mean trouble.

The two women continued to stand in silence until Zelda cleared her throat and moved suggestively towards the front door. Lilith took the hint, maintaining her almost mockingly polite tone of voice.

'Well, I believe I have abused your hospitality long enough. I should really be going,' Mary said, as though leaving was her idea all along. Zelda let out a humourless laugh, incredulous at the other woman's rudeness. After all, who was she really? A simple, weak mortal, useful only for teaching similarly simple, weak, mortal teenagers.

Mary put on her sunglasses once again, despite the late hour and therefore lack of sun, before walking out of the Spellmans' house, taking care to 'accidentally' bump her shoulder against Zelda's as she brushed past her. For some strange reason the contact, though minute, caused a heat to rise up Zelda's body; a flaming riot made itself known on her cheeks, much to her dismay. As Mary walked past, Zelda found herself deeply inhaling the simultaneously bitter and sweet scent of apples and she released an involuntary shiver, which was not missed by Lilith.

Zelda hurriedly closed the door behind Mary who had turned around and opened her mouth as though to speak; she didn't have the time to comprehend what had just happened yet, she had to find out what in Satan's name Hilda had done this time. She smoothed down her dress and purposefully made her way to the basement as she converted her embarrassment into anger and irritation; Hilda would be lucky to sleep anywhere but the Cain Pit tonight.

~~~

Making her way back to Mary's cottage on the other side of the woods, Lilith was content with her nights work. She patted her pocket to make sure that the nail clippings, hair and fabric from one of Sabrina's dresses was still there; all she needed to do now was create the doll and Sabrina would be entirely under her control. Of course, she wasn't going to physically control the girl. A simple mind spell would suffice, allowing Lilith to plant ideas in Sabrina's head without directly speaking to her.

The mother of demons smirked as she recalled her exchange with Zelda moments ago. She felt particularly triumphant over her victory against Zelda. The Dark Lord had warned her that Zelda would be difficult to break, but it was clear that despite her mortal persona, Zelda's interest in Lilith (whether it was Mary's body, Lilith's personality or both) had been ignited, something Lilith could use to her advantage.

She was slightly disgruntled that Zelda had refused to shake her hand. Aside from the fact that it was rather rude, it meant that Lilith could not cast a connection spell allowing her to better read the ginger witch's thoughts and emotions in the future.

That was one thing that Lilith found incredibly strange; she could sense anybody's presence, read their innermost thoughts, emotions and state of mind from a mile away if she wished, even Father Blackwood's - not that he was particularly strong willed, just excessively egotistical and obstinate. However, it seemed that there was two beings who she was unable to read; Satan, which made sense as it was he who gifted her powers, and Zelda Spellman. A mere witch, practically mortal compared to Lilith's invincible demoness self.

Why?, she wondered. She was lucky to have finished collecting the doll parts when she did: the lack of warning before Zelda's arrival home had made the demoness feel intensely vulnerable and weak, only spurning her desire to overpower Zelda in a battle of will, which Lilith won by a small margin.

One thing was for sure, she thought, as Mary's cottage came into view and the ground beneath her feet changed from earth to gravel, her business with Zelda was far from over. In fact, it was just beginning.


	3. An awkward dream

'I'm sorry Zelds, Ambrose really likes this lad, the poor chuck hasn't been this distracted in 30 years!' said Hilda, as she helped Zelda remove the decorative cushions from the ginger witch's bed.

It had been three hours since Zelda had caught Hilda trying to wake up a dying Ambrose as he foolishly astral projected to Cerberus' book store to meet some warlock on a date, and she hadn't spoken a word to neither her nephew nor sister.

Sighing, Hilda made her way to the bedroom door in resignation. 'Well if you aren't going to speak to me any time soon, I'll sleep in the spare bedroom.'

Zelda gave no response to her sister who left the room with a 'goodnight' and a sigh of resignation.

Of course Zelda was livid at her sister's idiocy; what witch in their right mind would assist a housebound warlock in astral projecting for a stupid date, knowing the psychopomps were on high alert during that time of year? That wasn't why Zelda hadn't spoken, however. She was simply distracted. Well, 'simply' probably isn't the best word, considering the complexity of the situation. Zelda was still shocked and allured by Father Blackwood's proposition and her internal conflict was giving her a migraine; that, and the two glasses of whiskey she had downed after the day's events.

She knew that whatever choice she made regarding the priest would have a major effect on not only her life, but her chance to redeem the Spellman family name. On the one hand, she knew that the warlock was more concerned with his own lust and pleasure than anything else - even at the Academy he had a reputation for tarnishing witches then leaving them in the supply cupboard and never acknowledging their existence again. On the other hand, by agreeing to his proposition, Zelda could garner his trust and would be in a perfect position to influence some of his decisions to prevent him from enforcing the misogynist, patriarchal society she knew he was trying to enforce, as well as finding a way to elevate her family's status.

But something about it seemed so wrong, for starters, it would be disrespectful towards Constance to have an affair with the man she so desperately wanted to provide with an heir. And something about the situation seemed vaguely like she was selling herself for future favours. But was it really prostitution if she enjoyed it? Because she would be lying if she said that she wasn't even a little aroused by the idea of being topped by a man as powerful and attractive as Father Blackwood.

And then there was that woman who she found in her house only three hours ago. Mary, was it? Not that Zelda was too concerned with remembering the woman's name, she was only a mortal teacher after all. And yet even that claim seemed suspiciously untrue. Zelda didn't know if it was because of the ease with which the woman had endured Zelda's attempts at intimidation, or the hypnotising blue eyes, the instinct of the ginger witch told her that there was more to Mary than the woman had said.

Oh, but she made Zelda so angry! How dare she not quiver under Zelda's glare? How dare she calmly smile while Zelda gave all impressions that she was not welcome in the Spellman house? Zelda felt vexed, uncomfortable, confused, attracted...

Wait.

Did she really just think that?

Surely not.

Zelda had never been attracted to a woman, especially not a mortal woman. And the fact that she had just admitted to herself that she was, made her question everything about herself.

She tried to shake off the shock of that invasive thought, blaming it on the alcohol, the stress, and the late hour. And yet, the more she thought about it, the more sure she felt that she was indeed attracted to the woman. Her breath caught in her throat just thinking of that full head of thick, brown curls, and the piercing blue eyes that bore straight into her black soul, as though she could see every secret Zelda ever harboured. She remembered the scent of apples, sweet with the bitter undertones of temptation, and her breath caught in her throat as she recalled the way that the woman's black leather coat had clung to her voluptuous curves.

How Zelda wanted to hug those curves; pressing the woman's body against hers as she explored the taste of her mouth, feel Mary's hands running up and down her body with a longing she matched. She wanted to tear the coat off of that temptress, fling it aside to reveal the masterpiece beneath...

Zelda awoke with a start to find her hand underneath her nightdress and a sheen of sweat coating her forehead.

'Zelds? Zelds, wake up.' The older witch moved her hand out from her nightdress, grateful for the dignity provided by the bedsheets covering her and sat up straight to look at Hilda's half-concerned, half-amused face.

'You was moaning in your sleep Zelds, are you ok?' Hilda asked, feigning ignorance as if she didn't know what type of dream her sister was having.

Zelda burned with embarrassment and turned her face away from her sister to hide the mortified look on her face.

'I'm fine, Hilda. But you won't be if you don't go to sleep, there was no need to wake me up.'

A sly grin crept on Hilda's face. 'Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know just how important the dream was to you. I'm sorry for interrupting what must have been a very satisfying situation.'

'Shut up, Hilda. Go to bed,' Zelda snapped, annoyed that she had so easily set herself up for her sister's comment. 'Whatever I dreamt about, which is frankly none of your concern, I imagine you will never come close to experiencing anything along those lines. So, go back to your little romance novel and keep dreaming.'

Hilda's grin vanished and was replaced with a hurt look. 'You know, there was really no need to stoop that low, Zelda,' Hilda said with a trembling lip and she pulled herself up into her bed, before laying in silence with her back to her sister.

Zelda felt a twinge of guilt at her comment but brushed it away. Hilda would be fine, she always was no matter what Zelda said and did. Besides, Zelda had more pressing issues than lamenting over a trivial sibling quarrel.

She knew now what she must do. There was no way on earth or hell that she would succumb to the sinful feelings that she felt towards Sabrina's mortal teacher. She would not make the same mistake as her brother in falling for a mortal, and she needed a distraction. Luckily, the perfect distraction had already been offered to her and the witch resolved to give her response to Father Blackwood as early as possible the next day. She closed her eyes, falling into a thankfully dreamless slumber.

~~~

Hilda had already left the house for grocery shopping the next morning, despite it being 7am; the shops didn't even open until 9am. Ah well, Zelda thought as she stood in front of her wardrobe. She would deal with that particular problem later. For now, she needed to choose something that was respectful enough to wear in front of the high priest, but revealing enough to remind him of his proposition.

Zelda slipped into some matching black lace lingerie with crimson hemming before putting on a lace v-neck dress the colour of blood that revealed just enough of her chest to ignite imaginations and stepped into a pair of black shiny stilettos. She styled her strawberry blonde hair into her signature elegant curls that cascaded down her back; she wanted Father Blackwood to have a full view of her front. Throwing on a black fur coat and lighting a cigarette, she left for Father Blackwood's office at the Academy of Unseen Arts, thankful that Ambrose was still asleep after yesterday's events.

She smiled in admiration as she caught a glance of her appearance in a puddle, and she knew there was no way the High Priest would change his mind when she looked as gorgeous as Lilith herself.


	4. A rejection

Faustus sighed and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. At this rate he would never get home. What he wouldn't give for a good night's sleep in a comfy bed, rather than ten minute snoozes in his hard, pine desk chair and its threadbare cushion. Satan damn you, Edward Spellman, Faustus thought as he crossed out yet another line of text from a piece of parchment. Why did you have to be so controversial?

There was a knock at the door of the High Priest's office and Faustus granted entrance without looking up from his work. Prudence entered the office in a white nightgown, having been woken by the ringing of the bell at the school's front door.

'Sister Zelda Spellman is waiting outside Father. I said you weren't taking appointments but she told me it was incredibly urgent and couldn't wait.'

Faustus' heart jumped into his throat at the sound of the ginger witch's name and he quickly threw the documents he had been studying into a drawer, pulling the Dark Lord's Bible towards him and opening it to a random page.

Given their most recent interaction he had a feeling he knew what this was about, and he certainly didn't want Prudence to overhear anything that they might discuss. 'Bring her in and then you may retire again for the night.'

Prudence bowed her head in respect before leaving the office. Her figure was almost immediately replaced by that of Zelda, whose attire confirmed Faustus' suspicions regarding the purpose of the late night visit. As the witch stepped into the soft glow of the office, Faustus' eyes widened with lustful amazement and he quickly averted his gaze to look at the Bible in front of him in an effort to hide the desire that grew so evidently on his face. Of course she would turn up wearing precisely the outfit that would make his trousers suddenly feel two sizes too small. He read a line from the page in front of him: Satan represents man as just another animal. How fitting, Faustus thought, given his current desire to leap over the table and tear that damn dress off the witch and feast on the body it hid.

Faustus gripped his knee under the desk in an effort to compose himself. He had to assert his dominance from the outset if he wanted to maintain control of the situation, and he couldn't do that if he gave in to her with every flip of her hair. No, he remembered the games they used to play back in their years at the Academy. He wouldn't let her win this time around; wouldn't let her torment him the way she did. It was his turn now.

Taking a deep breath he forced himself to look up into those enchanting green eyes that seemed to dare him to take the next step, dare him to fall into her trap, dare him to expose himself in ways even his wife had never seen.

'And what brings you to the Academy at this unholy hour, Sister Zelda?'

Zelda smirked, swaying her hips as she made her way towards him, never breaking eye contact, already putting on the charms that got them into such a mess just over 400 years ago. 'Well, dear Father, I've put a little bit of thought into your... proposition... and I can't help but wonder. What exactly it would entail? Of course, you said an informal relationship to find relief- is that correct? But I believe, given the part I may choose to play in this so called relationship, I am quite within my rights to expect a slightly more detailed explanation.' She raised an eyebrow at this last part, studying his now impassive face as she tried to gauge his reaction.

Of course she was going to make him spell it out. She always loved to watch him squirm under her gaze as he was forced to explain his intentions; standing like a predator waiting for its prey to show signs of weakness. Well, not this time.

By this point Zelda had reached the other side of his desk and leaned over towards him, still wearing that damn smirk, and she cocked her head to one side, waiting for his next move. Faustus forced himself to stay focused on her face, it took all of his concentration not to let his eyes wander down to the place he knew would destroy all his self control. He slammed his Bible closed with a little more force than was perhaps necessary, satisfied with the startled jump Zelda gave in response.

'I fear you forget yourself Sister Zelda.' Faustus stood, suddenly towering over the witch. 'I trust you are not as naïve regarding our previous discussion as you are in matters concerning your niece, though it was foolish of you to assume you had the right to enter my Academy, disturb my students, and demand to speak with me regarding such selfish and private matters at this late hour. I thought better of you, Sister Zelda, but apparently I was wrong.'

Zelda stepped back from the desk in shock. Her flirtatious smirk had vanished and she blinked rapidly, mouth slightly agape, taken aback by Faustus' harsh words. The High Priest congratulated himself inwardly at his success; it wasn't often another being could render the usually self-assured witch speechless, in fact Faustus wasn't sure he had ever seen Zelda in such a state of shock.

'But, Faustus I... I thought... but you said... I thou-'

'Whatever you thought, you thought wrong,' Faustus interrupted. He delighted in Zelda's obvious embarrassment and discomfort as he watched hot colour flood her fair cheeks. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, clearly searching for the right words to say. Then, she pushed her shoulders back and lifted her head up, her icy exterior returning as she put up the walls she had foolishly allowed to slip momentarily.

'Then I suppose I should be on my way,' Zelda said coldly.

'I think that would be best,' Faustus responded.

Faustus thought he saw a flash of hurt in Zelda's eyes but he blinked and those pools of green were once again cold and distant. Shaking slightly, the gorgeous witch bowed her head out of respect, before turning on her heel and striding towards the door. She would find some way to express her anger towards him, he thought; refusing to back out of the office as was custom was the perfect gesture for making her feelings clear without properly expressing them through words.

'Goodnight, Sister Zelda. Sleep well,' Faustus said pleasantly, knowing the mocking politeness would anger her even more. She hesitated at the door and started to turn, a thunderous look on her face, but she thought better of whatever she had planned to say and left.

As soon as the warlock heard the front door of the Academy close he collapsed back in his chair, all previous composure gone. He massaged his temples and sighed. His head was pounding, whether that be from the lack of sleep, Zelda, or a mixture of both. 'Capitis dolorem lucius annaeus seneca,' he muttered, relaxing slightly as the pressure on his head lifted.

He was glad that he had managed to at least appear composed while Zelda had been there, but it had taken a lot of effort. He already longed for her company, longed to run his hands through her hair. Oh that hair! The colour of a blood moon, shining like a thousands stars. And those eyes! If ever there was a stereotype that mortals got right about witches, it was that the most dangerous of witches had green eyes. They were the colour of a meadow in the late Spring and seemed to see straight into Faustus' soul, if he had one that was. And those lips! He shivered as he remembered the things those red lips had done to him so many moons ago. He had wanted to wait a few days to make sure Zelda had definitely got the message; he was in control here, things had changed since the Academy and now he was high priest. He wanted to use his position of authority to his advantage as much as possible.

Maybe she had already learned her lesson though, he thought. After all, he had never acted so coldly towards her before, surely she was shocked enough to realise who was to have the upper hand.

No, he had to stand his ground. If he gave in so quickly she would know that he wasn't as strong as he tried to act, and she would quickly best him, just like last time.

But oh how he wanted her. In front of him, below him, just near him.

'Satan have mercy on me,' the warlock growled, leaping out of the chair and heading out of the door. If she was going to have such a hold on him, he would just have to use that to his advantage. After all, as the prophet LaVey so wisely said; man's carnal nature will out.

~~~

Zelda let out an animalistic screech, glad that the sound was lost in the howling of the wind between the trees.

How dare he lead her on! How dare he play with her emotions like that; offer her the chance to pick up where they left off so long ago, then snatch it away, and humiliate her in the process! She stood in the middle of a clearing and let the storm scream in her ears, let the wind whip at her clothing. That screech had been surprisingly cathartic and she suddenly felt much calmer. Despite the strength with which the storm battered her she stood without swaying, grounded. Eventually, the wind seemed to tornado around her, almost as though she was harnessing its power, one with nature, rather than an intruder.

After all, now that she thought about it, he hadn't suggested picking up where they left off at all. He had suggested they 'embark' on a relationship; not 'continue'. So really, Zelda had simply misread his intentions. Of course, their relationship was entirely different now; he was high priest now, they were no longer equal. It was foolish to not realise he would expect the same level of respect and submission from her as his mistress as was demanded from a daughter of the Church of Night.

She continued making her way home, taking her heels off, enjoying the feeling of the late autumn leaves crunching beneath her feet, feeling more centred now that she had thought through what had happened. She knew he could not resist her for long - all she had to do was wait.

Finally home, Zelda made her way upstairs to the spare bedroom. She felt drained and didn't think she could handle her sister's incessant snoring tonight, she barely had the patience for it any other night. She entered the spare bedroom and closed the door behind her. Then, turning around to face the room, she jumped in shock for the second time that night.

'Faustus!' She exclaimed in surprise at the sight of the High Priest standing in front of the four poster bed.

Faustus took a step forward, toward Zelda, who was rooted to the spot. 'Lock the door, Sister Zelda.'

'But... '

Another step forward. 'Do it.'

Zelda locked the door behind her, wary of Faustus who continued to walk towards her.

Another step forward. 'Is this room soundproof?'

'No, why?'

Another step. 'Cast a silencing charm.'

'Tacet locus,' Zelda muttered, drawing a square in the air with her finger.

The spell washed over them both, soundproofing the room so that nobody outside could hear anything from within.

'Forgive me, Father, but why are you here?' Zelda asked, though deep down she already knew.

Faustus took one final step towards the witch, so close to her now that a cat's whisker couldn't fit between them.

'You asked me to explain my intentions, Sister Zelda. Well, I thought I would show you instead.'

And his lips crashed against hers.


	5. A ruined shirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you all so much for thinking my awful fic is worth your time lmao, I just want to forewarn you, this whole chapter is smut, so if you want to read it, that's fine, if you don't want to read it, that's also fine. I'll try to get the next chapter out this week too but I can't guarantee it.

Zelda's head banged against the door painfully as Faustus locked his lips against hers, gripping her shoulders hard. The ginger witch eventually relaxed into his grasp and wrapped her arms around him, digging her nails into his back and leaving marks, even over his clothing.

Faustus wasn’t hungry, he was famished, and the unrestrained moan Zelda released as his erection pressed against her weakest spot told him that the feeling was mutual. Her hands moved to his front as she began to tug at the buttons of his and his eyes snapped open as he remembered the purpose of his visit. He grabbed hold of her wrists and pinned her against the door; he wanted to tease her, show her who was in charge, remind her that it was he hold controlled the situation absolutely.

He restrained himself from tearing her clothes off there and then and instead allowed his lips to travel down her neck, breathing hot air against the curve of her neck, causing her knees to buckle and another moan to escape her slightly parted lips. He pushed her coat off her shoulders; an unnecessary obstacle in his way and he began to tease her, grazing his teeth along her collarbone before nipping her neck, leaving a small but visible red mark. He continued to plant marks on her neck, claiming her body as his and only his.

Unzipping her dress he allowed his fingers to trail the length of her spine, watching as she shivered with pleasure, beads of sweat appearing on her forehead and when he finally let go of her wrists the witch tore his shirt off, buttons flying everywhere.

He stopped his exploration of her body and looked down at his chest, then raised his gaze to the witch’s face, whose mouth was agape, eyes dilated with lust at the sight of his body.

‘Well now how rude, was my favourite shirt. Apologise.’ He said as sternly as he could in his current, aroused state. 

She looked up at him in amusement, raising an eyebrow slightly. He leaned close so that their noses were almost touching and put one hand against the door either side of her causing her to swallow nervously, a flicker of apprehension in her eyes.

‘Forgive me Father.’

He leaned back, smirking, all the while hot with desire, enjoying her submission to him. ‘I’m not sure that is good enough, a punishment is in order I believe, don’t you agree?’

She raised her eyebrows in shock for a moment, but bowed her head and whispered, ‘Of course Father.’

‘Kneel on the floor’ he commanded.

Shaking she knelt on all fours on the carpet by the bed. She didn’t dare look up from the floor and had no idea what he planned to do, which made her nervous; she didn’t like the lack of control she had.

Faustus circled Zelda like a predator circling its prize, enjoying the way she flinched when he stepped a little closer.

‘Sie quasi flagellum.’ Faustus conjured a whip and noticed how the witch tensed at his feet upon hearing the spell.

‘I’m going to flagellate you for your sins Zelda, so that you might suffer in exquisite ecstasy.’  
Pausing, he watched as Zelda released a soft ‘oh’ of surprise.

He faltered, suddenly nervous, he wanted to have control, but he didn’t want to scare her away, and he wasn’t sure if her reaction was positive or negative.

‘How does that sound?’ he asked.

‘Entirely appropriate.’ She replied in a voice shaking with desire.

He resumed his circling, relieved that she was willing; he would have been embarrassed if she had said no.

He held the whip over her back, letting the tip trail down her back before cracking it against her left ass cheek with a flick of his wrist. She cried out in both pain and pleasure, her cheek flaring bright red where the whip had struck. Faustus did the same to her right cheek, pleased with the way the ginger writhed and bucked with each strike. After a minute he stopped and knelt behind her. Her back was dripping with sweat and she was panting heavily, weakened but highly aroused.

He stroked each mark on her backside with his thumb, causing her to shiver under his cold touch. The lines seemed to sign his name on her skin; to him, the criss-crossing pattern was beautiful, a physical symbol of his hold on her. He lightly spanked her one, evoking another low groan of pleasure, before moving his hand to press against her core over her panties causing yet another moan, this one longer and deeper.

‘I’m glad you are enjoying this.’ He teased. ‘But maybe I should stop. After all, you did ruin my shirt.’

He removed his hand and Zelda growled in frustration. ‘Put it back.’

‘Excuse me? I think some manners are in order don’t you?’

She gritted her teeth; as much as she hated this submissive role, she wanted to feel him against her hot core and would do anything to feel that pressure again. 

‘Please Father, do it again.’

Faustus smirked at Zelda’s frustration, revelling in the fact that she had no choice but to obey him if she wanted to climax any time soon.

‘Of course, in fact, I have something better in mind.’

He slid her panties down her legs and slipped a finger in her wet core without warning, causing her to cry out in surprise. He began to fuck her slowly, building the pace as she moaned in rhythm. She began to grind her hips, trying to make him go deep but he held her fast with his free hand, wanting to have all control over her building excitement, wanting all the credit for her pleasure.

He slipped another finger in, fucking her harder, feeling her walls tightening as she writhed, trapped in his hold, moaning so loud that Faustus wondered if her soundproof charm would be powerful enough.

He could feel that she was close to her climax, his fingers slipped in and out so easily as her juices ran down his wrist. She began to shake slightly, all of her pent-up energy and lust for him rising to the top until…

He pulled his fingers out from her and stood up, walking round to her head. She looked up, face thunderous over the fact that he didn’t let her finish.

She opened her mouth to speak but he slipped his fingers inside, forcing her to suck her own juices off of them before pulling them out.

‘Sit up.’ He told her, and she complied. He leaned in close to her and kissed her softly on the lips, tucking a strand of her now wild hair behind her ears and wiping the sweat from her forehead.

‘Take this as a lesson. You are mine. You’re body is mine. This isn’t the Academy any more, I am a High Priest and married, expecting a child. You are a midwife and a funeral director. Understand you are not equal to me, and things will happen on my terms.’

Zelda looked at him in shock. Inside she was incredulous at his outrageous words, but she was frozen and couldn’t come up with a rebuke venomous enough before he stood back up and gathered his coat and cane.

‘Well, since it was you who destroyed my shirt, I think it is only fair that you repair it. You have until tomorrow noon.’

‘But Fau- Father, the buttons are scattered all over the place, it will take forever to pick them all up!’

He turned to face her and smirked. ‘Then you had better start now.’

And with that, he turned and left the room, leaving a messy haired Zelda collapsed on the bedroom floor.


	6. An awkward interaction

Waking up the next morning, Zelda felt uncharacteristically vulnerable. She couldn't get last night's events out of her mind, she had relived her emotions in her dreams over and over again. Lust. Fear. Pain. A tension that built and built, but was never released. She raised her hand and pressed lightly on the marks the high priest had made only hours earlier, wincing slightly at the sharp ache the action caused.

She climbed out of bed and walked over to the mirror, consciously avoiding the carpet by the bed, where she swore she could still see the imprints of her hands pressed deep into the rose design. Turning around in front of the mirror, she gasped when she saw the state of her butt; harsh red lines crossed each other like a cross-stitch pattern. There was no doubt that they would scar. An uncomfortable feeling settled at the bottom of her stomach at the sight of the brand that tied her to Faustus; he had never been like this at the Academy, and while she had enjoyed some parts of last night, she hated that she had no upper hand. It was no longer a game between them- it was master and servant, and Satan knows she wasn't going to be the master anytime soon.

'Oh, Zelda, you fool, what have you done?' she whispered, damning herself for putting herself in such a weak position. How did we even get here? And then she remembered. That woman who taught Sabrina at Baxter High. Zelda still couldn't believe the way she had felt towards that woman, in all 427 years of her life she had never been attracted to a woman, and she had never felt the need to run back to an old flame in order to avoid those feelings of attraction. So really, Zelda mused, it was the schoolmarm's fault she was in this mess. That small offering of relief did not help Zelda to answer the questions that had risen to the surface surrounding her own sexuality however, nor did it provide the witch with a way out of the mess she now found herself in.

She needed answers, and in order to get them she had to speak to the mortal woman herself. But no sooner than she had decided to pay the schoolmarm a visit,  
she changed her mind. She was doing exactly the same thing that had landed her with an ass looking like a waffle; she couldn't keep running to one person in order to escape her feelings for the other, and she had a feeling that if she visited Mary now, she would not have the strength to fight her in a battle of wits. There was no doubt that Mary would probably be expecting a visit from her too, judging by the way she had smirked at her when they met a couple of days ago, Mary was aware of the way she had made her feel.

The witch shivered, suddenly remembering she had no clothes on, save for her bra and she looked around the room for her clothes. She frowned as she realised that her dress, coat and panties were gone, as was Faustus' shirt.

'Oh shit,' she said. She knew there were no clothes in this room, she had insisted on keeping this room empty for guests and she damned herself for that decision. It dawned on her that she would have no chance but to streak across the hall to her bedroom and hope that none of her family saw her. She tried to cover her front with her hands as she crept towards the door, opening it a tiny bit. She peeked out into the hall, which seemed to be deserted, thankfully. She opened the door as quietly as possible, before slipping into the hall and creeping down towards her room. Suddenly, the trapdoor to the attic room where Ambrose slept swung open in front of her and her sister appeared from the opening with an empty breakfast tray, climbing down with her back to her. She was trapped, she couldn't get past without Hilda seeing her and she froze, mortified. She had no choice but to barge past her as fast as she could.

'Oh, good morning, Sister! How ar- OH MY DEAR SATAN, ZELDA!' The ginger witch pushed past Hilda and hurtled into her bedroom as fast as she could, causing cutlery to fly off the tray as Hilda lost her balance.

Zelda slammed the door of her room shut and leaned against it, closing her eyes and catching her breath- she seemed to be doing that a lot lately. She snapped her eyes open and immediately saw her clothing from the night before folded up neatly on the edge of her bed, alongside the equally neatly folded shirt and pile of buttons she had torn from the High Priest's body the night before.

'Oh, go fuck yourself, Faustus, ' she snarled.

~~~

Having finally washed and dressed, and after repairing the damned shirt, Zelda headed downstairs. She sat down at the head of the kitchen table and lit a cigarette- Satan knows she needed one- before hiding behind a German newspaper. She ignored the sideways glances her sister kept giving her as she made jam at the stove, instead staring intently at the page in front of her, not really seeing the words, but focusing on suppressing the red blush that was steadily rising up her neck to her cheeks.

'Are we not going to talk about whatever the heaven just happened, Zelda?' Hilda's half-amused, half-shocked voice cut through the thick silence.

'No.'

'Not the fact that you didn't get home until late last night?'

'No.'

'Or the fact that you slept in the spare bedroom?'

'No.'

'Not even the fact that less than an hour ago you streaked down the hall almost completely nak-'

'If you finish that sentence, Hilda, I will cut your head off and use it as a lamp.'

Hilda snapped her mouth shut; she wasn't about to call her sister's bluff on that threat. But she continued to watch her sister out of the corner of her eye. She thought she could see some kind of mark peeking from under the high white collar of Zelda's dress, though she didn't dare question her anymore. They were saved from another awkward silence by the ringing of the bell at the front door. Zelda immediately stood, folding her newspaper and smoothing her dress.

'I'll get it.'

She opened the door and was greeted by the one face she least wanted to see.

'Faustus!'

The High Priest stepped past her into the lobby, removing his hat. 'You shall address me as Father, or have you forgotten our arrangement already?

'N-no of course not Father, you simply took me by surprise.' Zelda closed the door behind him. 'I thought you wanted me to bring you the shirt at noon? It is only 10:30.'

'Believe it or not, Sister Zelda, there are more important things in life than a shirt. While you were busy seducing me, my wife had a panic attack.'

Zelda's momentary incredulity at his comment on seduction was swiftly replaced with shock and concern for Constance.

'What? What time exactly? For how long?'

'Here is an idea, Sister Zelda, rather than throwing questions at me that I haven't the answers to, why don't you make yourself useful and go check on Constance yourself? Or are you suddenly incapable of acting rationally? Hysteria doesn't look good on you Zelda, stick to haughty submission.' He turned and headed back to the door, either not noticing or ignoring the tears in Zelda's eyes. 'Oh, and you can bring the shirt with you, I know you have already fixed it, like the good mistress you are.'

Zelda picked up the shirt from the stairs where she had left it and followed him out, doing her best to hold back the flood of emotion welling up inside her.

The door closed behind the High Priest and Zelda and the lobby was deathly silent. Hilda stepped out from her hiding place in the shadow of the stairs and stared at the place her sister had stood in defeated silence moments ago, hellfire burning in her eyes.


	7. A loss of control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okaayyyy so I didn't actually expect this chapter to end quite the way it did but who can argue with the flow of the pen? (Yes I know I'm typing let me use my weird expressions in peace) anyway, there is some minor minor smut at the end but if you don't want to read that then once it gets to that point, skip to the last four or so sentences, though the chapter won't make as much sense if you do.

Lilith was pissed. No, she was beyond pissed. She was infuriated. It had been a whole week since the Spellman lady had caught her by surprise in the mortuary lobby and she had still not visited Lilith to discuss the unspoken chemistry she had ignited. It wasn't that they hadn't interacted at all - they had both participated in the first witch exorcism in history only a week prior, but Zelda had clearly been desperate for Lilith to leave her alone. Out of hatred? Or self-restraint? Lilith figures it was probably both.

Although it had taken a lot of concentration to maintain the energy in that room - it was an exorcism after all - Lilith couldn't help stealing sidelong glances at the ginger witch as she called upon her ancestors to expel her demonic son from Jesy Putnam. She still couldn't read Zelda or sense her presence, and in that room, with the energies and emotions of them all whirling around like a tornado, there seemed a black hole where Zelda stood, like an anomaly in the solar system of fear and determination to send Apophis back to the pits of Hell.

She had confessed to the Spellmans that she was a witch, which was at least partly true. However, while they accepted her sob story to an extent, it seemed to have done little to pique the ginger witch's interest in Mary, though she could have sworn Zelda had sat a little closer to her than socially acceptable when she had sat with them in their parlour. It seemed that despite her tale of being Edward's acolyte turned mistress and an excommunicate, having been believed well enough, Zelda's snobbish nature towards anybody less than a Satan-worshipping, rule-abiding, non-disgraced witch had stopped her from leaping onto Lilith's lap the first chance she got.

Of course, it wasn't that she had made up a complete lie; Lilith was indeed a witch, and she had partaken in a relationship with Edward Spellman. Though, that was before his mortal bitch had turned up and he realised he preferred blondes who couldn't levitate things with their mind, choosing to marry her instead.

Lilith smiled bitterly at this, and she allowed herself to replay the revenge she had had on the warlock slut; memories of screams and burning wood flashed in her mind like a happy ending to a sad film.

It frustrated her that Zelda wasn't giving in, and yet rather than giving up and moving on to easier meat (Hilda for example would be easier to break; she wouldn't need to be seduced and seemed to trust Mary completely), Lilith's determination to get the pale beauty into her bed was only strengthened. Lilith didn't love Zelda, she loved nobody but herself - her previous heartbreaks had made sure of that. She did however, feel immense lust for the witch: her ginger hair imitated fire when light reflected from it and that fire was matched in her green eyes every time she was angered, which it seemed was whenever Mary was around. Lilith wasn't shy about the things she wanted to do to that woman and what she wanted that woman to do to her. But she wasn't in love.

'Oh shut up, Stolas. You know I'm not capable of love.'

The bird cocked his head to one side as though incredulous.

'No, not even for the Dark Lord. I merely serve him now so that he may make me his equal on the throne later.'

Stolas flew out of the window at this, causing Lilith to sigh in resignation; lately, whenever she mentioned her plans to be Queen of Hell, Stolas did his best to escape the situation, almost as though he was avoiding giving a response.

The bell rang signalling the end of the lunch hour, reminding the demoness of her whereabouts. She groaned, getting out of her chair and stretching. She wished the little Spellman brat would just sign her name in the Book of the Beast already so that she could escape this hellhole of a town back to the pits where she flourished. The fact that it was parents' evening tonight only worsened her mood.

She stopped suddenly, realisation dawning on her face. The fact that it was parents evening did indeed mean that she would have to endure three hours of parents questioning why Billy was failing maths and Sandra had been kicked off the cheerleaders team. But it also meant that at least one of the Spellmans would be there for Sabrina. Of course, it was usually Hilda who attended the meetings, but if Lilith could find a way to convince Zelda to come instead...

Lilith took a strand of her hair and curled it around her finger thoughtfully.

If the Aunt wouldn't find an excuse to see her, well, then she would just have to find a reason herself, Lilith thought, and she reached for the phone.

~~~

'I will never understand why you wear those hideous cardigans, Hilda. Do you actually enjoy looking a century older than me?'

'Not everyone has your body, Zelds. I'm sorry, but us mere witches have long given up on maintaining the body of a 50 year old, we choose comfort over style.'

'Comfort isn't synonymous with such a ghastly shade of lilac and over-washed wool sister.'

Hilda rolled her eyes when her sister's face was once again hidden behind a copy of Beijing's Daily News. 'I'm heading out for Sabrina's parent evening at Baxter High, Zelda. I shouldn't be longer than an hour or two.'

Hilda was saved from what would have undoubtedly been a response dripping with sarcasm as the telephone rang. She went to pick it up as Zelda made no sign of movement to answer it herself.

'Spellman Sister's Mortuary, how may I assist you?- Yes, yes this is Hilda speaking.- Yes, Zelda is here.- Yes I'll put her on right aw-' Zelda had already snatched the phone out of Hilda's hands at the mention of her name and pressed it to her ear, ignoring her sister's indignant glare.

'Zelda speaking.'

The ginger witch's eyes widened, then narrowed as she realised who was on the other line.

'What do you mean you require my attendance specifically? I have never handled Sabrina's education at Baxter High, that responsibility has always been with my sister.'

An annoyed look flashed across Zelda's face.

'Well, why don't you come and discuss it here at the mortuary? Or better still, speak to the High Priest, I'm sure he will be of much more use than me.'

Zelda was then silent for a moment as she listened intently to whoever was on the other end of the line. Her eyes widened yet again and Hilda could have sworn her sister's knees buckled slightly before she grabbed hold of the wall to steady herself.

She took a deep breath as though trying to regain some composure. 'Then I will see you shortly.'

The witch turned away from her sister, avoiding eye contact and fetched her jacket from the coat stand before heading to the front door. Hilda followed her, confused and curious about the interaction.

'Uh, Zelds? Are you not going to tell me what that was about?'

'Miss Wardwell would like to speak with me at the parents evening today, you needn't come along.'

'Wh-what?' Hilda asked in shock, 'but I've always attended Sabrina's parent evenings, why does she want to speak to you this time?'

'There is some other matter she wishes to discuss as well.' Zelda looked her sister up and down and scoffed. 'Just be grateful you won't have to embarrass yourself in public with that atrocity.'

~~~

Zelda flung the door of Mary's office open and strode in.

'If you don't mind could you please kn- Oh! Miss Spellman!' Mary lifted her head out of her hands and stood up to greet the other witch. 'I'm so glad you could ma-'

'Oh save your breath, I'm here to discuss Sabrina and that is all, there is no need for false pleasantries.' Zelda interrupted. She wanted to avoid any of the feelings she had got caught up in during their first meeting, which was already hard enough given the overpoweringly tantalising scent of apples that filled the office. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent, before snapping them open, trying her best to ignore the urge to move closer to the other woman. She glanced at Mary, hoping that she hadn't noticed Zelda's momentary loss of composure, but the quirked eyebrow and mockingly flirtatious smirk confirmed the ginger witch's fears.

'Well? What was so important that you speak with me? Is Sabrina in trouble?'

'Not at all, she is doing fine in all of her subjects, I was merely curious if she was going to be staying at Baxter High much longer, given her recent admittance into the Academy of Unseen Arts?'

Zelda stared at Mary in disbelief, clenching and unclenching her fists. 'You mean to tell me,' she said through gritted teeth, 'that you dragged me up to this pathetic excuse of a school to ask me a question that I could have answered over the phone?'

Mary pushed away from the oak desk she had been leaning against and began to sway her hips towards the other witch, who took an involuntary step back.

'Oh dear, sweet Zelda, of course not.'

Zelda took another step back and found herself backed against the wall, while Mary continued her slow advance like a tigress playing with her prey before eating it.

'I had another matter I wanted to discuss with you, remember?'

Zelda was transfixed, the smell of Mary's perfume paralysing her, infecting her with feelings she wasn't sure she wanted to feel, but she sure as hell didn't want to not feel.

'A matter a little more... private.'

Mary was so close to her now, Zelda could see flecks of silver in her ocean eyes.

'A- a- and what would that matter happen to be regarding?'

A voice of reason yelled at Zelda to get out before she did something, or rather someone, she would regret, but that voice sounded weak and far away as blood pounded in her ears, heart beating so fast she was sure it would break through her rib cage.

Mary fluttered her eyelashes and smiled at Zelda. 'I think you already know.'

They were so close now that their chests were almost touching. Mary looked down at their chests before lifting her glance to Zelda's eyes, where it stayed as she took one last, tiny step.

The contact made the flames in Zelda's eyes flair and Mary tilted her head, hesitant. Her eyes flickered to the gingers lips and she slowly moved her head closer until their lips touched for the briefest of seconds.

Zelda's heart fluttered, and then the lusty monster within her reared its head and she grabbed a fistful of Mary's hair, smashing her face against hers. Their tongues battled as they attacked each other's bodies with a ferocity that made it hard to tell if they were groping or fighting.

Zelda allowed Mary's lips to wander to her jawline, then her neck, then her chest, hands wandering over her body like a lost traveller looking for a place to stay the night, before grabbing the brunette by the waist roughly and spinning her around so that Mary was now against the wall. The ginger grabbed her chin and turned her face towards hers, once again attacking her mouth.

Her carnal instincts in complete control, Zelda unzipped the other witch's dress and tossed it aside, enjoying the new, close contact with Mary's skin. Mary lifted her hands above her head, pushing her chest out in offering to Zelda, who obliged without hesitation. She massaged Mary's breasts over their emerald green prison and planted hungry kisses over the flesh that was exposed. She squeezed the witch's breasts suddenly, eliciting a moan from her prey's throat.

Mary lowered her hands and tangled them in the mess of ginger curls, smiling to herself for a moment as she realised how completely undone the witch must look, the facade of sophistication and aloofness dropped in favour of Mary's hands. She arched her back and whined as Zelda pressed her thigh against her core; her skirt had somehow found itself hiked up, barely covering her backside and allowing soaked lace to peek from beneath the hem.

She wanted Zelda, more than she had ever wanted anyone and the way that Zelda paid such careful attention to every inch of Mary's skin suggested that this need was not one-sided. She slid her hands down the ginger witch's back and gripped her backside when Zelda suddenly froze.

She opened her eyes and pushed herself away from Mary, staring at her in shock.

'What? What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?' Mary asked, licking her lips which had gone dry from having her mouth open for so long.

Zelda pulled her dress straight and suddenly looked flustered, troubled. 'Nothing, I- I- this was a mistake, I'm sorry, I have to go.'

She patted her hair and grabbed her coat before hurrying out of the office.

'No wait! Zelda!'

But she was already gone.


	8. A relapse

Lilith pulled her dress down, still aroused but frustrated. She didn't understand what had just happened and she was angry that she couldn't read Zelda to find out.

'AAAAAGH!' She screamed, eyes burning with fury and she threw a nearby glass at the opposite wall where it smashed into a million fragments.

'Miss Wardwell? Are you ok?' Mrs Meeks poked her head around the door in concern at the commotion and her eyes widened at the sight of the schoolteacher looking so dishevelled.

'Yes, I'm fine. I just stubbed my toe.' Mary said, using all her self restraint not to slam the secretary's head against edge of the cupboard.

'Oh ok. Erm, Miss Wardwell?'

'Yes Mrs Meeks?' Mary asked, shooting daggers at the mortal woman.

'Y-You're lipstick is smudged a bit.'

'Thank you for bringing that to my attention. Now if you don't mind, I need to prepare for my next parent meeting.'

~~~

Zelda gripped the steering wheel of the hearse as though she was trying to rip the leather from its frame and tried to focus on her breathing. Her head was spinning and she felt nauseous, she didn't understand what had just happened. She had gone into that office with the intention of making sure Sabrina was doing well in her classes and had left a mess.

The animalistic lust she had succumbed to only minutes ago still lingered, only now she hated the way it tugged at her, urging her to go back to that office and finish what she had started. She had never felt so completely out of control as she had when that woman had pressed against her, and she had never loved that lack of control as much as she had when she had attacked that woman's skin with hungry lips. She had never felt this way about all the men she had slept with over the centuries, especially not Faustus, even in their Academy years.

There had been some kind of equality to their encounter; Mary had given herself to Zelda, but taken all she was offered too, and Zelda struggled to comprehend how natural it had felt. She had never so much as kissed a woman- it wasn't as though the coven promoted sexual connections between women; men were always the focus of lust, and their desire and satisfaction was the only thing that mattered. But Zelda longed to run back to that woman, longed to feel the contact of soft skin on soft skin.

She regretted running away, yet she shuddered when she remembered the criss cross pattern of scars that ran across her backside, and she still cowered when she remembered the High Priest's words; ' You are mine. Your body is mine.'

Zelda closed her eyes and willed herself to forget. She felt so stupid, this was all her fault, she had let her pride and her desire for a secure footing within the strict hierarchy of the coven cloud her vision, and now she was paying the price. It was what she deserved.

She slid open the mirror on the sun visor and studied her face. Her eyes were wild with tears threatening to spill over and ginger locks of hair stuck to her face, which was anything but composed.

'Vicissim pulmentum.' She muttered, exhausted. The smudges mascara around her eyes cleared a little but the spell didn't have the effect she had wanted.

'Vicissim pulmentum!' Zelda muttered again, a feeling of exasperation building, but nothing happened.

'VICISSIM PULMENTUM!' Zelda screamed at the mirror, but her hair still looked like a birds nest, and her lipstick was still smeared on her chin. The tears that had stayed in their cage up to this point spilled over and ran down her cheeks in a flood of pain and heartache.

Sobs convulsed through her as she released all of the emotions she usually tried so hard to keep bottled up and she slammed her fist on the steering wheel, accidentally beeping the horn and cracking her knuckles.

'FUCK!' She exclaimed, pain shooting up her arm from the contact. Her chest began to tighten and she gasped, trying to get air into her lungs.

It had been years since this had happened, at her brother's funeral in front of the entire coven. She had vowed then never to show weakness again, and yet here she was, hyperventilating in the car park of Baxter High. She managed a bitter laugh through her tears at this; she could put on a front, kill her sister to avoid talking about her emotions, hide behind a wall of aloofness and sarcastic remarks but the fact remained the same; she was weak and worthless, everyone was better off without her.

Zelda turned on the ignition of the car and began to drive back to the mortuary, her driving unsteady as she struggled to see through the curtain her tears wpulled over her eyes.

'You are mine.' Zelda gripped the steering wheel tightly, and imagined the leather was Faustus' neck, which she was squeezing the life from slowly and painfully.

'Wasted in that mortuary.' She swerved onto the long driveway of the mortuary. Nobody in her family appreciated her care and efforts to protect, what was her life's worth?

'Hysteria doesn't suit you.' Her eyes fixated on a large oak tree, strong enough to crumple the front of the car on impact. She was weak, a pathetic excuse for a witch.

'Tantalising scent of apples.' The tree loomed ever closer as she pressed her foot down harder on the gas pedal. If anybody found out what she had just done she would be hanged, why not save the rope?

'You have until tomorrow noon.' Time was almost up, soon they would be free of her.

5\. 4. 3. 2-

Sabrina. Her face flashed in her mind. Every grazed knee. Every laugh. Every argument. Reading stories with her niece on her lap. 'I love you Auntie Zee.' Sabrina needed her.

She swerved at the last second and braked hard, pulling up besides the fence of the cemetery.

Breathe.

In. Out. In. Out.

Zelda's eyes closed, her breaths shaky, but gradually more and more regular. She ran her hand over her face and leaned back in her chair, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks.

'What the fuck is wrong with you woman?' She asked herself.

She knew what was wrong with her. But she had to get a grip, she was weak but she had to at least appear strong, for her family's sake.

She turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car, slowly rebuilding the mask she so rarely removed as she made her way up the steps of the front porch.

She took one last deep breath before opening the front door. She was greeted by Hilda, standing as though preparing for confrontation, a look of thunder on her face, arms folded. Zelda shrunk at the sight, shocked at the way her usually polite, cautious sister was glaring at her.

'I think it's time we had a talk Zelda.'


	9. A warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Alicja for editing/ marking this 🖤
> 
> 'Smash Smash Caitlin.'- Lane, 2019

'Hilda! What in the heaven are you doing?'

'I'm waiting for you to explain what has been going on with you the past few weeks!'

Zelda looked at her sister with slight apprehension. Did she know everything then? Satan damn Hilda for being the quiet but observant one.

She tried to hold her sister's furious glare but for once she was too exhausted to win that battle and she averted her eyes downwards. 'There is nothing wrong, Hilda. I am absolutely fine,' she protested, heading into the living room.

Hilda sighed inwardly: things were never easy where her sister was concerned but this was ridiculous.

'Really, Zelda? Because Father Blackwood has been visiting a lot in the late hours recently, has he not?' Hilda said, following her sister into the living room, refusing to drop the subject. 'Every time he leaves this house you seem more and more broken. Every time Sabrina so much as mentions Ms Wardwell you tense up like a territorial cat. And what in the Heaven just happened outside? Because that looked to me as though you was going to crash the car into our parents' tree, which is absolutely insane!'

Zelda's heart sank; her sister hadn't missed a thing. She had no idea how to handle this situation, and frankly she was too tired to deal with this new, less subdued Hilda. She poured herself a generous glass of whiskey and sank down on the couch. 

'Whatever you think you are seeing, Hilda, it's none of your concern. I can handle it myself. I don't need you or anyone else to get involved in my business.'

Hilda took the whiskey out of Zelda's hand, ignoring the indignant look that burned across her sister's face. 

'I'm your sister Zelds. I'm not getting involved, I just want to know what's going on with you. I'm concerned! You're clearly not doing very well at the moment and this,' Hilda lifted up the glass, 'isn't going to help you.'

Zelda lit a cigarette and began to smoke- she needed to do something with her hands before she choked the life out of her sister. She hated when Hilda was right, and Satan knows she was the only one talking sense right now. Not that Zelda would admit it.

'Zelds? Will you please talk to me?' 

Zelda whirled around to face her sister, suddenly impatient and frustrated at the way this unwanted conversation was going.

'Fine! You want me to talk? Then I'll tell you exactly what's going on: nothing. I lost control of the steering wheel outside. And I hate Mar- Ms Wardwell because she lied to us and Sabrina. As for Faustus? He has granted me some additional responsibilities within the coven, which I have been fulfilling. Nothing else.' 

Zelda glared at her sister, daring her to challenge what she had said, groaning when her sister obliged. 

'Additional responsibilities? What kind of responsibilities?'

'Does it matter?'

'Not really, there's only one so called 'responsibility' that would need to be fulfilled at 1am in the spare bedroom.'

Zelda choked on her second cigarette, glaring at her sister through a mask of smoke. 'What are you insinuating? That I-? That Faustus and I-? That we've been-?'

'Canoodling?' Her sister offered, unable to bring herself to say the actual word. 'You can't deny it Zelds. I've read enough harlequin novels to know what a late night visit from the high priest means, and I know what kind of marks could render you unable to sit comfortably on a chair.'

Zelda tried to subtly ease herself into sitting straight, rather than leaning on one side, but her face screwed up in agony giving her away. Hilda raised her eyebrow knowingly, though her sister's pain worried her.

'Oh, what would you know anyway?' Zelda huffed, throwing her hands up in the air, annoyed at the corner she had backed herself into. 'You are a virgin, Hilda. All you know is the soppy, unrealistic smut in those hideous novels. You know nothing of ecstasy.'

Hilda ignored the slight at her lack of experience. 'Zelda, to be completely honest, if this is what ecstasy looks like, I don't want to experience it. You're in pain, for crying out loud! And for what? Power? Is that what you're doing? Sleeping your way to the top?'

Zelda threw a porcelain trinket box at her sister, which just barely missed her head, and instead smashed against the cabinet behind her.

'Don't you dare make me out to be some kind of wanton hussy!' She hissed. 'I haven't got a choice! If I want to maintain any sort of respectable position for this family within the coven then this is the only way- by serving the High Priest however he wants. Besides, it's not as though I don't enjoy it.'

'Oh it looks like you enjoy it Zelda, was almost crashing the car part of your grand plan as well?'

Zelda shrank into the sofa, averting her gaze. 'I- I don't want to talk about that.' 

'That's the problem, Zelda. You never want to talk about anything! Nobody can help if you refuse to talk. The whole reason you used to have these attacks was because you bottled your feelings up until they exploded out in a suicidal breakdown!' 

Hilda was close to tears now. She wanted to help her sister, share the burden, but Satan she was so damn stubborn! She wouldn't listen to her and it broke Hilda's heart that she couldn't alter the course of this destructive path Zelda was walking down yet again.

'At least let me treat your bruises and sores.'

'I'm fine, I don't need any help.' Zelda lit another cigarette, refusing to look at her sister.

'Really? Tell me, when was the last time you and the High Priest saw each other for these... meetings?'

'Yesterday evening, in his office.'

'And the time before?'

'Yesterday morning, in his kitchen.'

'His kitc- Holy demons, Zelda!' Hilda exclaimed, 'You're doing this in his own home?! With his pregnant wife in another room?! Oh my- well, never mind that. You can't tell me that you aren't hurting when this is occurring so often! Let me at least have a look at the marks on your neck...'

Hilda reached to move Zelda's collar but her sister slapped her across the cheek hard and stood.

'No! Don't you dare touch me!'

'Aunties?'

The two sisters turned to see Sabrina stood in the doorway, shocked.

Zelda cursed under her breath. She hadn't meant to lose her temper and she certainly didn't want Sabrina getting involved; not when she had her own problems to cope with.

'What's going on? I heard raised voices... and Aunt Zelda, why in Satan's name did you just hit Aunt Hilda?' Sabrina asked, anger seeping into her voice.

Hilda stood, covering her cheek with her hair. 'Don't worry about it, Sabrina chuck. We're just having a little sisterly disagreement. It's getting late, let's go upstairs and I'll tuck you in.'

Sabrina opened her mouth, about to bark a retort, but there was a finality to Hilda's tone. Sabrina nodded once, glaring at her Aunt Zelda as she turned and headed upstairs, Hilda following close behind.

Zelda sank back into the sofa, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks, her hand on her forehead. How could she let Sabrina see that? How could she be so careless? She never let her niece see her spats with Hilda. Obviously, she knew that Hilda occasionally ended up in the Cain Pit, but she never saw Zelda in the act of violence!

She was spiralling, but she didn't know how to stop. Satan, she needed a drink. She headed to the liquor cabinet but her sister had locked it with a spell. And there was no chance Hilda would be opening it for her anytime soon. 

'Oh, for fuck's sake!' Zelda cursed, kicking the cabinet and crumpling the toe of her stiletto. She threw her shoes across the room. Those were her favourite Louboutins- one of the first pairs ever sold- and now they were ruined. 

Mind you, she laughed bitterly to herself, she was a suicidal whore who fucked married men to buy status and allowed herself to be seduced by excommunicated schoolmarm witches; you couldn't possibly get anymore ruined than that.

~~~

The soft glow of fading embers in the fireplace barely lit the office, but Faustus was too preoccupied to bother conjuring more firewood to re-kindle the flames. It was late again, the high priest rubbed his eyes and slapped his cheeks, trying to stay awake. If he could just finish this page... 

A wide yawn escaped his lips.

'My, my, I think it's time for beddy- byes.'

Faustus clenched his jaw at the unwanted presence. 'Lilith, to what do I owe this pleasure?'

The brunette witch stepped out from the shadows, her hips swaying lazily towards the warlock, smirking in amusement and mild disgust at the way his eyes were drawn to the movement. Men, she thought. They were all the same; they'd skin you alive, but expect a kiss first.

'Eyes are up here, Faustus.'

Faustus jerked his eyes upwards, embarrassed that he found her attractive, despite hating her guts. But then, she was the original succubus, he supposed she spent most of her time teasing men.

'I don't tease men, Faustus. I kill them and feast on their flesh,' Lilith said, rolling her eyes as she read his thoughts. 'Besides, you're the straightest man going, so you know who the better gender is in bed.'

'What do you want?' Faustus was tired of her mocking. He had things to do, such as finishing altering these scriptures.

'Now now, there's no need to be so snappy.' Lilith wagged her finger patronisingly. 'I might have to give you a pacifier and a bottle if you are going to act like a tired little toddler. I wanted to warn you.'

Faustus frowned, 'Warn me? Warn me of what? Who are you to warn me of anything, I'm the Hi-'

'-The High Priest of the Church of Night, yes. I'm painfully aware of that,' Lilith interrupted, rolling her eyes again. 'But you know more than you care to admit that, in the grand scheme of things, that means nothing- you're still a man. Which is why I'm warning you to stay away from the Spellmans. They are my charge and the Dark Lord would be rather angry if you were to mess with his plans, don't you think?'

Sighing, Faustus picked up his pen and crossed out a line halfway down the page in front of him. 'This is my Academy, as long as Sabrina is on this premises, I will have a say in her life and her future. Besides, the Dark Lord said to keep her alive, he didn't say a word about whether or not she should suffer...'

'Oh drop the pretences, Faustus, you and I both know I wasn't referring to Sabrina specifically.' Lilith plucked the pen out of the warlock's hands and snapped it with one hand. 'Tell me, is Zelda Spellman enjoying your little confessionals?'

Faustus eyes the witch warily, shocked at the comment. How much did she know? 

'I have no idea what you are talking about...' he said, tensing up as she picked up the book he had been annotating and thumbed through it before tossing it aside and staring at him, incredulous.

'Don't patronise me, I'm the mother of demons, not the mother of fools.'

She leaned across and pinned Faustus' hands to the desk.  
'So listen to me carefully. Leave. The Spellmans. Alone.'

She let go of Faustus and stood back, ignoring the look of outrage on his face.

'Besides,' she said, 'your methods are weak. She's headstrong, there's no way she'll submit to you if you use brute force and intimidation.'

A self-satisfied smirk spread across Faustus face. 

'Oh but Lilith, she already has! Whenever I call she drops everything. Whatever I tell her to do, she does without question. She's submitted to me completely.'

'Physically maybe,' Lilith scoffed, 'But do you really think she will remain loyal to you should something, or someone, better and more powerful come along?'   
Lilith poured herself a drink from the bottle of whiskey above the mantelpiece, relishing the sight of the warlock almost exploding with fury as she tore apart his ego.

'I- you- Are you threatening me?' He spluttered, a vein popping in his forehead as he tried to make sense of what Lilith has just said.

'Of course not.' The demoness smirked. 'I can't threaten you when you have no hope in the first place.' She leaned against the mantelpiece, swirling the contents of the glass absent- mindedly. 'Besides, as soon as she realises what you are planning to do with her brother's scriptures I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to summon all of hell on you, and who knows who she'll run to for help.'

'We'll see,' the high priest said tersely; it was taking all of his concentration not to leap out of his seat and strangle the mother of demons.

'Yes, I imagine we shall,' Lilith said. 'Well, I think I've suffered your company long enough for one day. Now, I overheard that a group of boys are camping in the woods by my cottage tonight...' Lilith smirked at Faustus, giving him a sideways glance. 'And I'm so dreadfully hungry.'

She took a small sip of the whiskey before pouring the rest into the fireplace, the flames suddenly jumping back to life. She sashayed out of the office, disappearing into the darkness of the hall and leaving the high priest thunderstruck.


End file.
